Part 75 (2/2)

”You're not alarmed at the barking of a dog?” cried Gwyn, contemptuously.

”No, no, not a bit; but dogs have a way of knowing things that beats us.

He's barking at something he knows is wrong, and it's that which makes me feel scared though I don't know what it is.”

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

FOR LIFE.

”What nonsense!” cried Gwyn, laughing. ”Don't you be scared by trifles, Joe. There's nothing wrong, is there, Grip?”

The dog threw up his head, gazed pleadingly at his master, and then made for the farther opening.

”No, no, not that way,” cried Joe.

”Yes, sir, we'll try that way please; it works round by the wet drive, and the big pillared hall, as you called it.”

”But look here, Sam, are you serious?” said Joe; ”or are you making this fuss to frighten us?”

”You never knowed me try to do such a thing as that, sir,” said the man, sternly. ”P'raps I'm wrong, and I hope I am; but all the same I should be glad for us to get to the foot of the shaft again.”

”Why not go to where the men are at work?” suggested Gwyn; ”they'd know.”

”We shall take them in our way, sir; and we won't lose any time please.”

”I should like to light up the place once more before we go.”

”No, no, sir. You can do that when you come again.”

”Very well,” said Gwyn, who did not feel in the least alarmed, but who could see the great drops standing on the mining captain's face. ”Lead on, then. Where's Grip?”

The dog was gone.

”Here! Hi! Grip! Grip!” cried Gwyn.

There was a faint bark from a distance, and Gwyn called again, but there was no further response.

”He knows it's wrong, sir,” said Hardock, solemnly, ”so let's hurry after him.”

”Go on, then,” said Joe; and Gwyn reluctantly followed them through the grotto, and then along a natural crack in the rock, which was painful for walking, being all on a slope. But this soon came to an end, and they found themselves in another grotto, but with a low-arched roof and wanting in the crystallisations of the first.

”You have been all along here, Sam?” said Gwyn, suddenly.

For answer Hardock took a few steps forward, and held up his lanthorn to display a roughly-brushed white arrow on the wall pointing forward.

”You can always tell where we've been now, sir,” said the man. ”This bends in and out for nearly a quarter of a mile; now it's caverns, now it's cracks, and then we come again upon old workings which lead off by what I call one of the mine endings. After that we get to the big hall, and that low wet gallery; I know my way right through now.”

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